Before We Kiss

CHAPTER FOUR

FAYRENE STUFFED HER keys into her jeans pocket and headed for the front door. She was going to swing by Dellina’s to have yet another heart-to-heart with her older sister. She needed a plan to get Ryan to propose and Dellina was the best planner she knew. But before she could reach the door, someone rang the bell. She pulled it open a second later.

Mayor Marsha stood in the hallway of her triplex. Fayrene rented the bottom floor, mostly because it had a tiny yard. She liked seeing grass and flowers when she looked out her kitchen window. The upstairs units had a better view of the town, but she liked where she was.

Fayrene looked at the older woman. Of course she knew the mayor—everyone who lived in town did. But the other woman had never once come to her apartment.

“Hello,” Fayrene said cautiously. “May I help you?”

“I hope so,” Mayor Marsha told her, then smiled. “I understand you have a pet-sitting service.”

It was only then Fayrene noticed that Mayor Marsha was holding a leash in one hand. And at the end of the leash was a fluffy, adorable Pomeranian.

Fayrene immediately dropped to her knees. “Who is this?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Caramel.”

“Hi, pretty girl,” Fayrene said softly as she stroked the dog’s head.

Caramel’s button eyes widened as her face seemed to relax into an adorable doggy grin.

Mayor Marsha picked up a tote bag and handed it to Fayrene. “There’s a folder with instructions inside. Caramel is very friendly. She prefers people to dogs. She likes squeaky toys, bacon, Thai food and tummy rubs. It’s probably best if you don’t leave her home alone. She likes to be involved in what’s going on.”

Fayrene stood. Somehow she found herself holding the bright pink leash, along with the tote. Caramel gave a little spin.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.” She’d never seen the mayor with one before. Or heard her talk about one.

“This is a several-week commitment,” Mayor Marsha told her. “Will that be all right?”

“Sure. I have a few temp jobs right now, but there’s no reason she can’t go with me.”

Mayor Marsha gave her a few instructions about feeding Caramel, then mentioned the name of her vet. Before Fayrene could figure out what was happening, she found herself alone in her building’s hallway, facing a fluffy Pomeranian.

“Okay, then,” she said slowly. “I guess it’s you and me.”

Caramel gave another spin, as if expressing excitement.

Fayrene stepped back and pushed opened the door to her apartment. “Want to come in?”

Caramel walked into the apartment. She waited while Fayrene unclipped her leash, then set off to explore her new home. Fayrene unpacked her dog food and set out a bowl of water. She found Caramel on her bed, curled up in a nest of decorative pillows.

“Not the type to sleep on the floor?” she asked.

Caramel wagged her tail a little, as if to ask why anyone would choose the floor when there was a perfectly comfortable bed for the taking.

* * *

SAM ARRIVED AT Dellina’s place right on time. He’d walked, because Fool’s Gold was the kind of place where people walked instead of taking their cars. As he’d made his way to her house, he’d passed plenty of residents and a few tourists. The latter had mostly ignored him, but he’d seen the townspeople giving him the once-over.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to acknowledge them or just keep moving. In Los Angeles, he’d managed to stay anonymous—which was what he preferred. Of course in Fool’s Gold no one seemed to care about his former career, so maybe it didn’t matter if people knew he was walking on the street.

Dellina opened her door before he could knock and grabbed him by the arm.

“You are going to be so impressed,” she said as she pulled him into the house. “I’ve been working my butt off and do I have a lot to show for it.”

Her enthusiasm made him smile as he followed her down the narrow hallway. They stepped into her office where charts and lists covered the walls. Which seemed safer than the infamous dry-erase board with Fayrene’s ongoing list of how to get Ryan to propose. But now that he knew the logic behind the brainstorming, he wasn’t worried. It turned out that Dellina had been exactly what she’d seemed that lone Valentine’s night. A sweet, sexy, funny woman who took him places he wanted to go again. She wasn’t married, a stalker or even secretly a man. All pluses in his book.

The only thing standing between him asking her out was the party they had to pull off and the knowledge that with his bad luck, however good things started, they were going to finish in disaster.

Dellina walked to the sheets tacked to the wall. She had on worn jeans and a T-shirt and was barefoot. While he liked seeing her in business attire, he had to say there was something appealing about worn jeans. The soft, faded denim molded to her curves in a way designed to make him think about—

“Here are the cost estimates,” she said, pointing to one of the lists on the wall. “It’s not complete and it will change, but it gives us a starting place.”

He reluctantly raised his gaze to where she pointed. “That’s why they’re called estimates.”

She flashed him a smile. “You’re such a numbers guy.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

She pointed at another list. “Our tasting schedule.”

She went on about food and maybe even wine, but he was busy thinking about another kind of tasting. One that involved his mouth and her body and lots of moaning.

In an effort to distract himself, he glanced at a list of what looked like craft projects. The word birdhouses had several question marks next to it.

“For the kids?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I can’t decide. A birdhouse can be built in a single day. The glue doesn’t take long to dry. We could finish them in the morning and then paint them that afternoon and the next morning.”

“Interesting.”

“Now the lecture series,” she said, pointing to the chair by the desk.

He sank onto the seat. She settled across from him and handed him pages she’d printed out on her computer.

“I think these are the most interesting so far. This man is an astrophysicist. He talks about the origins of the universe in terms laypeople can understand. He’s supposed to be funny and relatable.”

“Our clients aren’t the science types,” he told her.

“Well, I think he’d be really interesting, but I thought you might say that.” She handed him a second sheet. “What about a race car driver? He’s very successful on the Formula 1 circuit. I looked him up online and he has a few really funny videos.”

The car guy had more appeal, but Sam wasn’t feeling it. “How many women are interested in cars?” he asked. “Even racing? Taryn’s going to say it’s not anything she wants to listen to.”

Dellina sighed. “I can hear her tirade already,” she admitted. “Darn. I thought this was it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Darn?”

She smiled again. “I don’t swear in front of clients.”